“I love you like I’ll kill for you,” I whisper, my forehead coming to rest against hers, my hands still cradling her face. “Like I’ll die for you. Like there’s no force on this planet that could make me let you go. Not my son. Not your father. Not the cartel. Not common sense or decency. Nor the knowledge that I’m too old for you, too broken for you, or too fucking dangerous to be trusted with something as precious as your heart. I love you like you’re mine, trouble. Like you’vealwaysbeen mine.”
Before she can speak, before she can process the words I’ve been denying myself to admit for weeks, I close the distance between us and crash my lips onto hers.
It’s not gentle or tentative. It’s claiming and desperate, filled with every ounce of love that has been building inside me since I started to fall for her. She makes a sound against my mouth, something between a whimper and a sob, her hands fisting in my shirt and pulling me closer.
I taste the salt of her tears and deepen the kiss, my tongue sweeping into her mouth, tangling with hers, mapping every inch of her like I need to memorize her before she disappears. My hands slide from her face into her hair, my fingers threading through the dark silk strands, tiltingher head back to give me better access to drink her in more deeply.
I pull back just enough to speak, my lips brushing against hers, as I breathe the words into the small space between us. “These lips are mine,” I murmur, my thumb tracing her swollen lower lip. “The only ones I want to kiss. The last ones I ever will.”
She stares up at me, her breath coming in short pants that blow warm and sweet across my mouth. Her lips quiver, and her throat works on a swallow, as she gathers the courage to speak. “I love you, too,” she whispers.
I kiss her again, softer this time, reverent, my hands tracing her neck, her shoulders, and to the curve of her waist. She arches into my touch, her body speaking a language that needs no translation, and my restraint crumbles like ash.
After pulling her tank top over her head, it falls haphazardly to the floor. My lips kiss over the constellation of freckles on her shoulder as my fingertips dust lightly along the scar on her ribs from a childhood fall. Her breath hitches when my knuckles brush over her nipples through the lace of her bra,
“So beautiful,” I croon on exhale. I mean it in my bones, in my blood, and at the very center of who I am. She’s beautiful, like art, sin, and salvation all wrapped in skin that comes to life under my touch.
Her fingers fumble with my shirt, and she stretches to pull it over my head. It catches on my loosely tied hair, pulling it free, the long locks falling over my face as she discards my shirt.
I unhook her bra, and she shrugs out of it. Her breasts fall heavy and perfect into my waiting palms. I lay her across the mattress, closing my mouth around one dusky peak, and she cries out, her fingers tangling in my hair to hold me there. I suck and lave and tease, switching between them until she’s writhing beneath me, her hips rolling in a rhythm that’s older than any language.
My fingertips trace the waistband of her shorts, slipping beneath to find her already wet and wanting. She gasps when I stroke my finger through her pussy, circling her clit with a pressure that makes her legs fall open wider. “Please,” she whimpers. The lone word is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.
I strip her shorts and underwear off in one motion before tossing them aside. Kneeling between her thighs, I look down at her spread out before me like a feast. She’s glistening in the lamplight, pink, swollen, and perfect. I shed the rest of my clothes quickly, her eyes tracking my every movement, her pupils blown wide with desire.
When I lower myself over her, settling my hips between her legs, the weight of my cock presses against her thigh. She’s so warm, so soft, so perfect beneath me that it feels like we were destined to fit together.
I kiss her again, long and deep, my hands roaming over her body, learning every curve, every secret place that makes her gasp like it’s the first time. I slide down, trailing kisses along her jaw, her throat, between her breasts. I pause at her stomach, dipping my tongue into her navel, and her muscles jump beneath my mouth.
Settled between her thighs, I push her legs wider with my shoulders and look up at her over the plane of her stomach. The first taste of her pussy is heaven. She tastes like everything I’ve ever wanted and everything I never knew I needed. I lick through her folds, circling her clit with the flat of my tongue and teasing her entrance with the tip.
I slide two fingers inside her, curling them to find that spot that makes her see stars as I suck her clit between my lips. She comes apart almost immediately, her body tensing, her back arching, a gush of wetness coating my chin as she cries out my name.
“Again,” I growl, not giving her time to come down, working her through the aftershocks with my tongue and fingers until she’s at the precipice again. Her hands fist the sheets, and cries of pleasure spill over her lips. “Too much,” she pants. “Daddy, I can’t?—”
“You can,” I insist, adding a third finger, stretching her, preparing to fill her. “Give me another one, trouble. Let me taste you. Let me feel you completely come apart for me.”
She shatters again, harder this time, her body convulsing with the liquid of her release dripping over my hand. I lap it up greedily, not wasting a drop, worshipping her with my mouth until she’s trembling in my hands and against my tongue.
I climb up her body, kissing her deeply, letting her taste herself. She moans into my mouth, her hands finding my shoulders before dragging down my spine, pulling me closer.
“Need you inside me,” she breathes against my lips. “Please, Daddy. I need you.”
I position myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against her pussy. When I push my hips forward, I sink into her inch by inch, giving her time to adjust to my size. I bottom out with a groan ripped from my soul. “You were made for this. Made forme.” After withdrawing almost completely, I slide back in, angling my hips to hit the spot inside her that makes her eyes roll back.
I thrust, slow and deep. “You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect.”
Her legs wrap around me, pulling me into her, silently urging me to take her harder and deeper. “That’s it,” I praise, my voice rough. “Take my cock. Take all of me.”
I drive forward harder, my hips snapping against hers, the slaps of our bodies meeting filling the room along with her breathless cries and my grunts of pleasure. I shift my weight onto one elbow, using my free hand to tilt her chin. “Look at me,” I command. “I want to see your eyes when you tell me who owns this little pussy.”
“Daddy,” she whimpers, and the word sends a jolt of pure electricity down my spine.
“Yes,” I growl, thrusting harder, pushing her toward the edge. From the way she tightens around me and the desperate sounds she’s making in the back of her throat, I know she’s at the brink of falling. “Come for your Daddy. Show me how good I make you feel. How much you love my cock.”
She explodes with a scream that she tries to muffle by biting my shoulder painfully hard. Her body convulses, and her inner muscles clamp down on me so I nearly spill into her.Struggling, I thrust through it to prolong her pleasure, watching her expression as she comes undone beneath me.
When she goes limp and her grip loosens, I slow my movements, still hard inside her and still needing more. Pulling out slowly, I murmur, “Roll over,” as I help turn her onto her stomach. I position myself behind her, lifting her hips until she’s on her knees with one cheek pressed to the mattress and her perfect ass presented to me as an offering. I run my hands over the curve of her ass cheeks, squeezing them before spreading her slightly to see all of her.
